You wouldn’t believe it, Jessie J remarks. There she was readying for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an candid account, addressing every moment of pain she’d faced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later next release, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while coping with the disease. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. She is fast-thinking, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her first comedy performance soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I basically roast the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an slot at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after years away and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my right breast now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already making her debut starring in the London theater in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
